Only Human
by Echofalls
Summary: Something horrid stirs within the history of the so-called "Lost Village" of Appletown. Read at your peril.
1. Chapter 1:

"_Take away a man's light, his clothes, his food, his friends, his air, and you leave him with nothing but himself. And for most, that is not pleasant company."_ -Ranse Truman.

_You all wear so many masks, and with so many masks, which is your real face? _

Lazarus rested next to the shore of the trickling stream, admiring the scenery around him. Sometimes he just needed to get away from the hustle and bustle of the city. 'Hey.' A pair of hands came down on his shoulders, manicured nails resting on his black jacket. 'We used to play here all the time as kids, didn't we? What were we... Ten?' Lazarus tilted his head back, long black hair falling aside so cerulean eyes could see the woman smiling down at him. 'Yeah. A long time ago. Feels like only yesterday.'  
>'Feels like 12 years to me.' Andrea Harper groaned as she sat down next to him. 'You remember the time Sister Mavis found us out here? She <em>freaked.<em>'  
>'Yeah.' he laughed. 'Now that I think about it, it was quite funny.'<br>'Mmm. "Why can't you be more like the other children?"' Andrea said in a rather good impression.  
>Lazarus smirked at this, watching his reflection be distorted by the ripples of the stream, a stray leaf was carried past. 'This forest... It'll all be gone soon.' he said sadly. 'All our childhood memories along with these woods.' He reached next to him for Andrea's reassuring form. It wasn't there.<p>

'Andrea?' He looked around, golden butterfly charm around his neck flicking from side to side with his head as he searched for me. Her vanishing form was seen by him, just going between two trees. 'Andrea!' he hurried after her, trying not to let her put too much distance between her. These woods, unless you knew where you were going, were easy to get lost in. He continued chasing her, white trainers crunching leaves and cracking twigs under his feet. 'Where are you going?' She was still far away, just barely visible in the fading evening light.

He stopped abruptly, it was either that or crash into Andrea's back as she stood in the forest clearing. 'Andrea?' She turned to him, as if in a trance, and spoke as if in wonder.

'Appletown. The lost village.'

_**Chapter 1: The Lost Village.**_

'I've heard about this place.' Lazarus wondered as he looked around at the leaf covered buildings, with their overgrown gardens and gardening equipment merely abandoned where it stood. 'A long time ago... I thought it was just a legend. People who are drawn here are never seen again.'  
>'We found Appletown?' Andrea was almost laughing but she stopped as she scanned the houses.<p>

'I heard singing before, but... There's no-one here.' Andrea observed as she looked around. 'Hey, we found this place, we should explore! Some of the houses might have money!'  
>Lazarus snorted at Andrea, always financially minded. 'Laz!'<br>'Hm?' he snapped from his trance, spotting Andrea digging about in an overgrown garden, pulling at something in the long grass. 'What?' he wondered, amused, as he strode over to her. 'Did you find a credit card?'  
>'No- Ugh!' Andrea grunted as she tugged ruthlessly at the object before finally managing to pull it free; a handbag. Taking it out of the garden and onto a ruined pathway, Andrea eagerly began to sift through the contents. 'Just bits of paper...' she noted sadly.<br>'Wait...' Lazarus stopped her before she could shut the bag again. Reaching a hand inside, he pulled out a complete sheet, writing on it. 'Look. A diary.'  
>'Ooo, good on you, Mr eagle eyes.' Andrea jested as she took it from him and began to read.<p>

-

_JOURNALIST'S DIARY 1:_

_"I found Appletown! The so-called "Lost Village", what a scoop! I think I'll take a look around the houses, see what juicy info I can dig up from all this dust."_

_-_

The rest of the journal wasn't in the bag. 'Who's is this...?' Lazarus wondered to himself. 'Who else is here?' Both of them turned to look at the closest house, the one from whose garden Andrea had pulled the bag. 'Should we look around...?' Andrea asked quietly. Both silently agreed.

The creaky door with the peeling white paint closed behind them, disturbing the musty, stale air inside the house. Both of them stood in the hall, rough floorboards groaning under their shoes, nearby rested discarded shoes and wellington boots, caked in years of dried mud, it would likely hold their form should the shoes corrode away completely. 'Let's...' Andrea spared the oak staircase a smal glance before instead shifting her aim down the narrow hallway ahead of them. '... Check out the ground floor first.' She decided finally. Andrea moved past a cracked window that looked out into the gap between two houses, she did not see the pale face looking in at her, Lazarus, however did. 'Andrea...' He said quietly, loud enough for her to hear as he looked at her.  
>'Hm?' she wondered, turning to face him. Lazarus looked to the window again. No face.<br>'Nothing...' he stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

The kitchen stood in disrepair. Washing up simply abandonded in the sink, a spider had spun it's web between the handles of two saucepans. Andrea entered into the room, emerald eyes scanning the decrepit kitchen as her black shoes scattered years of dust that had settled on the grimy floor. Lazarus soon joined her, shivering as he wrapped his black jacket tighter around him. 'It's a bit... Cold...' he shuddered before sparing Andrea a curious glance. 'Don't you feel that chill?'  
>'No. It's nice in here.' she replied, feeling the evening sunlight on her skin as it trickled in via thin beams through a dusty window.<p>

'Meh, there's nothing here, Laz.' Andrea gave a shrug and proceeded past him, heading back to where they had first entered the building. Lazarus stood in the kitchen, shivering. Though he could see and feel the warm sunlight, it was somehow drowned out by an otherworldly chill. '_Lazarus!'_ Andrea's voice came from the hallway, squeaky and frightened, a tiny whisper of it's usual self. Floorboards bending under his exertion, Lazarus hurriedly returned to her. 'What? What's wrong, Andrea?' he asked her. The woman in question stared unblinkingly at the top of the stairs, pale as death. 'There was someone up there...' she whispered, pointing a trembling finger in that direction. 'Just for a second...'

'Should we go and look?' he asked, giving her a gentle shake to wake her from her self-imposed trance.

'Y... Yeah... Let's go and look.'

These stairs creaked even more then the floorboards below, each one bending far more then they should be allowed to. The two of them found another diary entry on the ground; page torn asunder from the journalist's notebook.

-

_JOURNALIST'S DIARY 2_:

_"The longer I stay here, the more I feel this unwelcome chill in the air. There's a feeling of tension present as night draws in. It feels like the village is waiting for something, or someone. But it's not me... It's not me..."_

-

The rest of the rooms in this house were just like the village; run down and filled with cobwebs and dust. One room had once belonged to a young girl. Once the room probably had been bright and full of colour, now all that was left was faded, peeling wallpaper and mouldy stuffed animals were the main make up of the room. By now the sunlight was all but gone, a few last rays of daylight stubbornly clung over the trees, but it would likely be gone by the end of the hour. 'Where did she go...?' Andrea asked as she looked around the room. 'I... I saw her go in here. There was no way she could just vanish...'  
>Lazarus looked around. 'Maybe she went into another room?' he wondered. 'I'll go check out the master bedroom.'<p>

Andrea nodded, crossing into the room opposite.

Lazarus examined the room, mouldy sheets still made neatly, most likely by a family that would never sleep in that bed again. Bottles of perfume and brushes sat on the mirror fronted table, all of which were out of date and had been for years. 'Hm?' something caught his attention; a flashlight was on the ground, seemingly out of place with the rest of the room. Considering it useful, he picked it up and checked it, the batteries were still good. Turning to face the mirror, he froze, catching sight of his reflection; Midnight black hair laying flat down the sides, yet was wild and spiked near the back, deep eyes bloodshot. He looked tired. His eyes widened as he saw who stood behind him; a pale creepy figure of a woman, blonde haired tied back into a ponytail, dressed in ragged clothing as she clutched a crimson fronted journal to her chest; It was the ghost of the journalist. '_Please...'_ she whispered, in a dry echo of a voice as she strode towards him before passing straight through him, in that moment Lazarus was lost to the soundless void.

Here is what he saw:

_'Who's there...?'_ The Journalist strode through a monotone version of Appletown. '_Is someone around?'_ She shone her flashlight in the general direction of the town hall. Something was beckoning her there. She openened the doors and entered inside, doors shutting behind her, her shreiking scream faded into static... 


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2: **_ _**Echoes of a Massacre. **_

_In your dreams you see a dark, shapeless shadow slither across the floor to where Andrea lies in her bed. It stretches and grows until it towers towards the ceiling. Andrea opens her eyes and her mouth opens into a soundless scream as the shadow tears its claws into her body, ripping her ribcage apart and feasting on her internal organs with feverish delight. The shadow begins to take on a solid form, blood dribbling down it's chin as their form becomes what you recognise as your own..._

Lazarus' eyes snapped open, looking around from where he was lying on the floor. 'Ugh... Andrea?' he wondered, still holding onto the flashlight as he rose to his feet, disturbing dust into the air from the faded carpet. 'A...Andrea?' He could hear someone moving downstairs. He crashed to the landing. 'Andrea!' he spotted her form by the partly open door, about to go outside. She turned to face Lazarus, who immediatly noticed that something was wrong; her eyes were distant and glassy, as though she had fallen under a hypnotic trance. 'I'm sorry...' she whispered, voice void of all emotion. 'But I wouldn't miss this for the world...' The door slammed shut behind her.

Even though he was seperated from her, he could still feel her actions in a way he could not explain, the best he could do was as a film in his mind. '_It's calling me...'_ she whispered to herself as she proceeded from the overgrown gardens, down the pathway, and towards the village hall. A shadowy figure stood outside, waiting for her. The vision ended there, allowing Lazarus to focus once more on his own darkened surroundings. The journalist's flashlight came in use finally, the good batteries lighting up the house. He had to go after her.

Leaving the creepy, decrepit house behind, Lazarus followed Andrea's footsteps through the town and down towards the village hall. Night had long ago settled in, the sky was a dark inky black, free of both moon and stars. His breath steamed up ahead of him, temperature seeming to drop the closer he got to his destination. That creepy chill was back. The cold wind whispered words as it rushed through his hair, he turned back to look at the string of houses, all standing pale in the moonlight, creepy shells of houses. A malign force echoed on the air and he spun to face the hall once more, flashlight suddenly failing, standing by the oak doors stood a man in a pinstriped suit, black shirt underneath, crimson scarf draped loosely over his shoulders, hands in trouser pockets. He was laughing at him, finding something about him utterly amusing, glowing eyes narrowed as spine chilling chuckles of utter evil continued. Then he was gone, a shadow of a man that had faded back into the walls of the hall. 

Lazarus had no idea who that was, but just looking at him chilled him to his bones, like he was... _not _supposed to exist. Lazarus felt like his bones were hollow. Then the creepy chill was gone and warm night air could reach him at last, flashlight suddenly regaining power. That apparition would not change things, he still had to go in there, he still had to find Andrea and save her. There was only just one problem with his plan; the door was locked. The key had to be around here somewhere...

With shivering breath, Lazarus moved along the leaf covered streets, searching for any location as to where the key for the door could be. A presence... Distant though it was, Lazarus honed in on it, it drew him in, back to the side of a house. A light was on inside a window. 'Come here, Lazarus.' A man's voice ordered softly. From inside the house, a warm light illuminated a guant figure, dark brown hair with crystal blue eyes, claw marks on his right cheek. 'Who are you...?' Lazarus asked.  
>'I knew your mother.' he stated simply.<br>'My mother...?' Lazarus and Andrea, both orphans since young, had never known their parents. 'Where is she...?'  
>'Dead.' he stated. 'But <em>you<em> are alive.'

'Do... you know where the key to the village hall is? My friend's in there and I'm worried about her.' Lazarus wondered.

'The key... I think it's in the McMillan house, down that way.' he pointed behind him.

'Right... Thanks.' Lazarus nodded, turning his back on the man and walking off.

'Lazarus.' he stopped to listen to the housebound man. 'If you cannot find a way to leave the village, come and find me. I may be able to help.'

Lazarus could distinguish the McMillan house by the name on it's rusted postbox. The peeling paint on the faded front door contained a messgaes from long ago, graffiti which read such insulting messages such as: "WITCH", "SLUT", "WHORE". Pushing the door aside, he entered into the house. These were simple God fearing people, and clearly the residents of this home had given the villagers something to fear... Another sheet from the Journalist's diary rested on the floor of the hall.

-

_JOURNALIST'S DIARY 3_

_How long have I been here? I know it's only been one night, but it feels like days here... In my dreams I can hear the voice of a man laughing maniaclly, surrounded by countless slaughtered human beings, apparently having inflicted grevious wounds upon each other. I feel his golden eyes burning into my mind even as I write this, I hear his laughter creeping into my bones._

_I don't want to sleep anymore... _

_-_

The man had mentioned that the key for the hall was in here... But there were no keys on the hook near the door. Lazarus decided to venture deeper into the house. Evidence of a fire was clear in what could've been the living room at some point, everything was blackened and mostly cold charcoal. Lazarus was about to turn away when something caught the light from his torch, just for a second it sparkled. Remains of wooden furniture and floorboards crunched under his feet as he proceeded to what had sparkled and was still sparkling within the flashlight beam.  
>'Hm? What is this...?' brushing ash from the golden chain, he removed it from it's perch on a twisted peice of wood. A small golden locket in the shape of a heart. It was still warm, as though the flames had only recently extinguished and the locket had enough time to cool. There was no way for him to pry it open, the fire had no doubt melded the two windows together. He looked around suddenly, for a short time, he felt like he was being watched by someone. Soon it faded. With a sigh he placed it in his pocket, holding onto it for reasons unknown. He continued his search for the key and returned to the hallway. 'Huh?' There was a key on the hook, rusted but still useable. It wasn't there a second ago... The tag to it read "V. Hall" No doubt this was the village hall key. He had what he wanted, now to get out of this creepy house, it was giving him chills, moreso then the others.<p>

The door to the village hall unlocked with a click, rusted mechanisms turning before finally opening. Inside was a darkness impenetrable to his flashlight, but, the moment the door shut behind him, a very curious thing began to happen. 'Huh...? The flashlight...' his voice was a whisper of panic as the flashlight began to flicker, had the batteries given up? He gave it a few more resourceful whacks, attempting to keep it alive, the flickering beam passed over several ghostly figures, sitting at the benches of the room, all looking ahead in wonder, but Lazarus did not see them. 'No...' he whispered, the flashlight failed, plunging him into the darkness that encompassed the hall.

Oddly, even without the illumination of the flashlight, the room did not seem to actually be getting any _darker._ It just maintained it's moody atmosphere. 'There's something in here...' he whispered to himself, eyes scanning the desolate room. Benches had been set out at intervals in two rows every few feet. 'Andrea... Are you here...?' he could not dare to lift his voice above a whisper, whatever it was that was in here was standing in the darkest corners of the room, just watching him. 

'Andrea...?' As he strode amongst the benches, he felt eyes upon him.  
><em>Do you feel them, Lazarus?<em> The voice was a whisper in his mind, a breath from the shadows of his dreams. _There are many... many dead..._ _Do you feel their eyes upon you? Their breath down you neck? _ He had seen a notice board, posters and notices stuck to it. One was an advertisement from the 1980's, it was faded and torn and someone had graffitied over it "SATANSATANSATAN" in what appeared to be... blood? The poster itself appeared to be an advertisement for a show or lecture of some sort... Being held in this hall. Lazarus smoothed the poster out, trying to see more of it. An image was burned into his mind; that same man was smirking at him, amidst the insane, tortured screams of the villagers. Then it was gone, he took his hand away. 'What the hell was that...?' Shaking his head at this distraction, Lazarus continued his search for Andrea.

Attached to the door leading out of the main hall was a note; it looked like it had just been stuck there... 

-  
><em>MYSTERIOUS NOTE: <em>

_Lazarus, _

_There are many dark secrets in this village, most of them are of my own doing. The souls of humans long dead still haunt these halls. All seeking for answers, all seeking revenge. Your friend, I hear you ask? Why, she is just beyond this door and up the stairs beyond..._

_Did you like visiting that old house? That old burnt out house? Does it ring any bells? No?  
>I'd advise you not to turn around...<em>

_-_

That last part, what did it mean-? A cold chill down his neck, he felt eyes searing into the back of his head. With heart pounding in his chest, Lazarus turned on his heels slowly, turning to face whatever it was that was looking at him. Out of the darkness materialised a single, three lobed glowing golden eye, focused on him.

Lazarus slammed the door shut behind him, hoping that _thing..._ wouldn't be able to chase after him. _What the hell was that thing?_ Resting against the door, Lazarus turned to look for another route, true to the note there was a flight of stairs leading up to another floor. All of them creaking and groaning under his weight, he eventually reached the top floor, another door barred his progress, this one, thankfully, was unlocked. 'Andrea?' he wondered, opening the door and proceeded inside. The shadow watched from the bottom of the stairs. 


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3: All that ends must end. **_

'_Lazarus...'_ the voice was a whisper on the air, amongst the ruins of a charred room, a rope creaked as it turned slowly; straining with the weight of a pale woman's body.  
>The voices of the dead echoed back in reply.<p>

'Andrea...?' he gently shook her. The woman's still body had been located on the floor of the room, her form illuminated by candles that sat around the room, recently lit. 'Andrea...?' Lazarus gave her another gentle shake, her eyes fluttered open, focusing on him. 'Laz? Is that you?'  
>'Yeah.' he pulled her into a hug.<br>'Oh... OK... This is good...' she replied uncertinally as she wrapped her arms around him. 'I... Don't remember what I did, but tell me what it was so I can use it in emergencies.'  
>Whatever force had pushed Andrea into a hypnotic trance had clearly abandoned her, her mind was her own.<p>

'C'mon... I don't want to stay here... Let's go...' Andrea shivered, something was scaring her, something close by. Creaking footsteps, creaking footsteps proceeding up the stairs that Lazarus had not gone up that long ago. 'Is... Someone out there?' Lazarus wondered, the two of them staying close together. Both hearts pounding as the footsteps approached the door, stopping outside. 'Lazarus...' Andrea whispered, uneasy. 'Wait!' she hissed as he approached the door, grabbing his right wrist to halt his progress. 'What is it, Lazarus? What's out there?'  
>'I don't know...' he whispered in reply, one arm still reaching out for the door. 'But I'm going to find out. I'm not going to be backed into a corner like this-!'<br>His anger was cut off by an echo of amused laughter as it carried through the building. Both of them flinched.

Lazarus, ignoring Andrea's pleas, threw the door open. The corridor beyond was empty.

'See? Nothing.' he assured her with a smile.

'That's usually the point where something grabs you by the throat and carries you out of sight...' Andrea snorted, shaking off her paranoia. '..Someone was singing...' She muttered as they continued on own the stairs and back into the main hall. 'Such a strange song...' 

'No... NO!' Lazarus tugged desperatly at the doors, but they would not budge. When Lazarus peered at them closer, he could make out... Countless bloody handprints on the wood, done with such force that he could feel the indentations. _Were they trapped?_ 'He's not letting us leave...' Andrea whispered, shivering again. Lazarus did not hear her.

'Maybe there's a side door...?' he considered to himself, searching along the walls for another doorway.  
>'Lazarus...?' Andrea's voice called out. 'W-where are you? I can't see anything.'<p>

He did not reply he was too busy searching for a way out.  
>'L-Laz...? <em>Lazarus...?'<em>

'Aha!' he had found another door. This one for sure led outside, he could see the fire escape sign above it. 'We can get out this way! C'mon Andrea!'  
>No reply.<br>'Andrea?' the answer had dawned on him long before he scanned the hall, searching for his best friend. She was gone...

Lazarus stepped out of the side exit, the cool air was refreshing compared to the stuffy chill inside the village hall. Lazarus had barely taken a few breaths before he suffered a horrifying, utterly terrifying event; The torch came on. But it wouldn't come on in there...? Where could Andrea have gone to...? There was no way she could've escaped through the side door, he was in front of it, the main door was sealed, and she couldn't have gone back up the stairs, he would've heard it...

Another vision in his head; Andrea moving along down the street, as though a trance had seized her once more. She approached a run down building, it could be a school... The vision ended as she approached the door. Lazarus awoke from his vision, a chilling hand was on his shoulder, clamping down tightly. A smug male voice spoke close to his ear, so close he could feel their lips brush past his ear with each syallble spoken. '_Don't go, Lazarus... Stay with me...'_ Then they were gone. So, the school it was... 

What the hell was wrong with this village? What the hell had happened here? The empty village did not provide any answer to his questions. 'Come here, Lazarus.' That voice again. He walked to the same window as before, the door to the house closed with a massive padlock on the outside. The same man waited for him at the window. 'What happened at the school?' Lazarus asked him.  
>The deshivilled man shook his head. 'Something terrible.'<br>'Well, it seems like the whole village had "something terrible" happen to it.' he replied with a raised eyebrow.

'Don't mock me... _Don't mock me_. You weren't there, you didn't see it. The look in their eyes! The _madness!_ Man, woman, child, none were spared.'

'My friend is in the school, she keeps stating that "he's keeping us here" Who is he?' Lazarus wondered, tapping his flashlight against his side.

The man turned away, looking nervous. 'He said he was a travelling man. He... Held a show in the village hall, the night it all started. I... I didn't go see him, but I heard from a neighbour about what they had seen; she struggled to put it into words, I can't do either. But it was what happened afterwards that I can remember.'

'What happened?' Lazarus wondered.

'The night air was rent with the screams of the villagers who had been to that show. Even their very screams kept me awake into the early dawn. Then there was something else out there, walking in the night, keeping to the very darkest places. Even now I fear to turn this light out.'

'Right...' Lazarus turned to go.

'Wait!' the man reached out and grabbed Lazarus by the shoulder, at this touch he turned, snarling, eyes full of a raging fire.  
>'That <em>thing<em> has took my best friend from me, I would tear this world asunder if it that was what it took to save her.' he growled. 'Let me go.'  
>Slowly, the man withdrew his touch. 'Very well, go where you will, but no good will come of this... I will remain here. Ask again if you need my help.' <p>


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4: Crimson Wings of the Yellow King**_

_In your dreams you hear flutes playing an alien tune as you stride through marble white halls. Something lurks in the shadows, waiting to grab you, but you steer clear of the shadows and proceed to the very end of the room. A figure sits upon a large throne, blurry and indistinct, not quite __**here**__. The face of the figure is shrouded by their long silvery hair, but you can clearly see two ivory horns spiralling back from their forehead, the figure appears to be alseep. The flutes stop suddenly, you feel a presence behind; bootsteps thumping against the ground. A deathly chill creeps down your spine as the sleeping figure raises their head; milky white, sightless eyes stare right at you._

Lazarus opened his eyes slowly, the remenants of another creepy dream plaguing his mind into the waking world. Slowly he pushed himself up from the staff room sofa, where upon he had crashed, feeling suddenly dizzy. His breath steamed up as he reached for the flashlight.  
><em>Something's... Here... <em>a shadowy, clawed hand closed around his wrist as he grabbed the torch. His eyes followed the hand, down the arm, all the way to where three golden eyes stared at him. Lazarus blinked. No eyes, no shadowy creature.

'Hello, Sarah...' a figure with a crimson scarf approached the spirit of a hanging woman. 'Are you having fun there? Spinning...? Turning...? Hmm?' he cocked his head to one side, watching the spirit silently stare at the charred floor as the rope she had used to take her own life continued to creak. 'You were lucky, I was kind to you. You don't have to endure the pain of your death over and over again, though it is rather tasty... All that misery and madness... You should've heard them scream...' he licked his lips. 'Mmm...'

The spirit said nothing, merely continuing to silently endure her torture.  
>'I know you gave him the key, Sarah.' The man continued. 'It is rather amusing; <em>the human condition...<em> I've seen him, Sarah. He's all grown up now. Hmm? When you- with child- fled the village all those years back. I was wondering when you'd come back. But you did, and now you're here.' He stopped to tut loudly. 'You shouldn't have run away, Sarah. _Look how far you've fallen_.'

'_It's him!'_ A spirit of a man, possibly a teacher, flickered into being in front of Lazarus for a few seconds, staring at him wide- eyed before turning and fleeing down the corridor, where he soon vanished into the darkness. School at night, just felt so... Wrong. When he was younger, he used to think all of the teachers slept in the school. Regardless, there was still a creepy air that hung over the entire village, it was here too.

He scanned each of the classrooms in turn, searching for the presence of Andrea. Another page of the journalist's log lay forgotten on a desk;

-

_JOURNALIST'S DIARY 4: _

_He's following me, I know he is. I fled from the streets, all the while his mad laughter echoing in my mind. I took refuge in the school here, but I can't sleep anymore. Something's in this school... A little girl I think... Clothes stained with blood. _

_-_

'_Kill me?'_

Lazarus spun on his heels, turning to face the apparition; A young school girl, possibly 9 or 10, clothes stained crimson with blood, in her right hand she tightly clenched a blood encrusted scalpel. Then she was gone. With every passing second, this place became creepier and creepier. _Ok... I swear now; that I will find Andrea, and then... We get the fuck out of Dodge!_

'He's at the school, Sarah. Are you glad to see your child, chasing after a woman so eagerly?'  
>The hanged woman did not reply.<p>

'C'mon... Are you glad?' he reached up and gently forced her head to nod. 'There, see, was that so hard?' The woman turned slowly to look at him.  
>'<em>Will you watch him...?'<em> she wondered in a whisper.  
>'I have been. He's a nice guy, pathetic, but nice.' The man in the black suit snorted as he examined his fingernails. 'I think he's a bit upset with you. Right now, he's wondering why he couldn't be with you and why he couldn't grow up in a... <em>lovely<em> town like this.' He smirked as he looked back at her, golden eyes burning brightly. 'And we both know the answer to that...'

Andrea opened her eyes a screamed; a young girl was standing over her, raising a bloodied knife, eyes glinting with madness. She exploded into smoke as an iron pipe sailed through her form and became imbedded in the blackboard behind her. 'Andrea!' Lazarus was here! He held her tightly as he approached, never going to let her out of his sight again. She looked into his deep cerulean eyes, eyes that were brimming with tears. 'What's wrong, Lazarus? What did I do...?'

'No...' he sniffed, pulling her close. 'No... That doesn't matter.'

The man in the suit stood outside the school, watching them through a dusty window as they embraced tightly. Were he human, _perhaps_ he would've found it moving, heartwarming even. But all that answered back was the snarling, howling void of apathy. A pity this little game had to move on, truths would be told before the dawn.

'He's here, Lazarus...' Andrea whispered as they finally broke apart. 'He keeps calling to me, over and over, deep into my soul. I have to go to him...'

'Why? Who's calling you?' he wondered, hands on her shoulders, stopping her from moving.  
>'I... I don't know. I... I just feel that I <em>need<em> to be with him.'

'I don't feel anything.' Lazarus shrugged before looking around; Andrea had been found lying on a desk in one of the classrooms, the demented, knife wielding spirit standing over her, Lazarus had let his impulses take over; and had grabbed the closest thing to him and thrown it at the ghost. Speaking of ghosts... He turned around to find another girl behind him, standing in a nervous posture, giving him a seething glare. _'Give me back my brother.'_ she demanded before fleeing. The ghost had left something behind; an old key, bound to pink diary with a flowery chain.

_-_

_FLOWER DIARY:_

_Mummy and me are going to see a show tonight, is it going to be like a movie? I hope it is._

_My brother gave me this diary for my birthday, he says he won't read it. Mum says that the front door to the house is wonky again, so we have to have the big padlock on it to stop people getting in._

_I saw the showman out in the street today, I waved to him and he smiled back. He seems like a nice man. But I don't like him... I don't know why..._

_My brother doesn't want to come to show, so we're leaving him in the house... I'm going now. Bye, bye diary!_

_Show was weird. I didn't understand what the man was saying. Head hurts._

_I saw the man speaking with our neighbour, she's nice, she gives me cookies. Man seemed to like her, asking lots of questions. She giggles. She blushes._

_Dream of man in yellow playing games with me. Like man in yellow. Man in yellow give me odd shaped stones as presents. Mum woke me up. Mummy was screaming. Why?_

_Fever. Head hurts. Doctor come see me. Too sick for school. Stay home. Play games. Good._

_Fever gone but head hurts. Mum put bars on windows and doors. Said to keep us safe. Hear voices outside. People screaming._

_Wake up in night. Thirsty. Call out for mum. Mum not answer. House and village is dark. Torch going out. Dark._

_*The last part of the diary stops abruptly*_

-

'This key... Could that have been her brother I saw?' Lazarus inspected it.

'Who?'

'I met someone, another guy, I think he was still alive.' Lazarus felt his shoulder, where he had been grabbed. 'He _felt_ real. Let's go and talk to him.'

The school, thankfully, did let them leave without thousands of bloody handprints holding the doors shut. They procceeded through the pitch black village, Lazarus holding tightly onto Andrea's hand, not letting her go, despite her pleas.  
>'Please, I need to go and see him!'<p>

'No.'  
>'I'll miss the show!'<p>

'Focus.'  
>'But-!'<p>

'Stay with me, Andrea.'

They reached the house eventually, the man was not at the window, and the light inside had gone out. The key fitted into the padlock, but requried a lot of persuasion before it eventually turned. With a loud click the mechanism released. Lazarus and Andrea untangled the chains from the gate and door, and entered. The house was like any other, dusty, decayed, and run down from years of abandonment. A vision assualted his senses, like a violent sneeze suddenly approaching. He stopped, releasing his grip on Andrea and focusing on what he could see;

'_It's so dark...'_ the man muttered, clutching a candle close to his chest, guarding the flame against the chilling winds that threatened to plunge it into darkness. The candle gutted itself out, and the darkness was upon him instantly, hearing the whoosh of beating wings from all around, then it attacked. His picked clean skeleton crashed to the floor, candle and holder landing next to it. Time seemed to accelerate forwards until something picked up the candle and lit it once again, placing it on the sideboard above a radiator, illuminating the window. An exact clone of the devoured man approached the window, kicking the dusty skeleton out of sight. '_Come here, Lazarus.'_ __

Eyes snapping open, Lazarus took two steps backwards, reeling in shock as he realised who he had _really_ been speaking to. Something clattered to the floor. It was the locket. He reached down and picked it up, the locket opened as he did so and a peice of tightly folded paper escaped from within. 'Hm?' he picked it up, unaware that Andrea had again been drawn away from him. Once unfolded, Lazarus re-read the notes over and over again. Now things made more sense... Sort of. 


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter Five: Nyarlathotep**_

'How will he remember us, after the moment, Sarah?' The man with golden eyes, the Crawling Chaos, Nyaralthotep demanded as he looked up at her form, strung up to the massive cruifix at the front of the hall, bands of light holding onto her ankles, wrists and neck. 'Is this what he expected to see?' he wondered as Sarah stared back at him.  
>The door to the hall slammed shut, Andrea strode between the benches, all the souls assembled turned their heads to watch her. 'Welcome, Ms Harper.' he did not turn to look at her as she drew closer. 'Do you have anything to say?'<br>'Yes.' She stated. 'I do.'  
>'Then say it.' he waved a hand over his shoulder, motioning for her to approach. Andrea did so, clutching the baseball bat she had picked up tightly.<p>

Lazarus left the house and rushed towards the village hall, it was time to end this. The hall came closer, flashlight flickering and failing as he came closer. It gave up on life entirely as he reached the doors and flung them open.

The Crawling Chaos tutted loudly as he looked down on Andrea's body, an amused smirk came to his face as he saw the expression of utter terror frozen on her lifeless features. She died of fright the moment she tried to attack him. 'So, now we come to the pinnacle of our performance!' he called out to the assembled. 'Ladies and gentlemen. I give you...' he gestured to the doors as they were flung open. 'Lazarus McMillan!'

-

FINAL LETTERS:

*These letters were folded within the locket*

_Lazarus,_

_if you are reading this now, then it means that I have failed in my mission to save this village and purge my sins. I do not know what you will be like when you grow up, I hope that you will go through life and be the best of humanity. But I would be lying..._

_My dearest son, I wish I could've found a way to give you more guidance, but I fear that there are dark forces moving against me, and I am out of time as I write this. Be safe, Lazarus, I ask that if you cannot save the souls of all in this village, please, save your own and keep it incorruptable._

_Resist, dearest child, resist the taint of Chaos that has been on your soul since you were born._

_May you guide the human race to a bright future.  
><em>

_Your loving mother,_

_Sarah._

_(Signed your B-day;  
>19th March 1984)<em>

_*This letter is older then the previous*_

_Of the assembled here, we sign an oath in our blood, as such our two bloods have mingled together. We hereby agree that no harm shall come to the unborn child either by our hands, or by forces caused by our own hands._

_Our names signed below in our blood signify this pact for eternity:_

_SARAH ROSA MCMILLAN _

_*The next name is written in alien symbols and indecipherable.*_

_-_

'Signing that oath was the hardest thing I had ever done, and I've done some pretty bad things...' The Crawling Chaos mused as he saw the blood stained note in Lazarus' hand. He turned to face Sarah once more, the spirit watched him intently. 'Is this what he wanted, Sarah? Is this what he expected to see of us? _Mother and father, locking eyes?' _He turned once more to Lazarus, looking at him, considering him. 'Look at him, everyone, _really_ look. Do you see him now? Blood of human, soul of Outer God, suspended in balance by a thread of sanity. Such a wonderous experiment.'  
>'I. Am. Not. An. <em>Experiment.<em>' Lazarus snarled, taking steps forwards, spirits fading into obscurity as he passed them. 'I am a human being!'  
>Nyarlathotep began to laugh again. 'Are you so ignorant that you did not listen to a word I spoke? You have deluded yourself for years... You're a disgrace. I pity calling you "<em>Son".<em>'  
>Sarah lowered her head sadly as Lazarus approached, ignoring the Crawling Chaos and focusing on her cruified form. 'Mom!'<br>_'Lazarus...'_ she whispered sadly. '_I'm sorry...'_

'Aww... Look at this, one big happy family.' Nyarlathotep said with a smirk. 'I always wondered what would happen, now I have my answers. Doesn't he look so much like us? The sheen of the void in his hair, the sharp features, and the look of a strong mind. _My child._' 

It was Sarah who had never felt the touch of a man in her life. The sweet innocent woman who was desperate for contact. It was her desires that made her vulnerable to the Crawling Chaos. It only took one dangerous, yet angelic smile and she was under his spell. They got talking next, he asked her questions and she had no choice by to answer them. They discussed it over coffee, Sarah began to babble, but he just nodded and smiled, showing perfect teeth. Such power and grace in his proud form.

He whispered subtle words in her ear, making her head spin, thoughts fuzzy and dizzy, she could do nothing but slip into his arms. Now Nyarlathotep could move onto the next stage of his experiment. Sarah, finding out who it was who had held her alseep, and _raped_ her, forced him to sign and oath in his own blood, he did so for his own amusement. That night she fled the village and left the inhabitants to He Who Dwells in the Dark of Man's Dreams.

Months passed as Sarah stayed with her parents in the city, she gave birth eventually. The child was a formless swirling mass when it was born, it drove Sarah's mother hysterical; she claimed it was an abomination against God and needed to be destroyed. Sarah cradled it to her, and when she looked down on it again, it had changed into a human baby. But, knowing that the father- and henceforth, the child, would be a _monster, _she abandoned the child to an orphanage and then spread words among the people, gathered a cabal and used them to attempt to reclaim the village. However, no mortal creature can fight a God, and with a few spoken words, the Crawling Chaos had turned her cabal on her.

He watched her barricade herself into her home, the cabal graffitied her door and began to beat it down, She wrapped the rope around the ceiling fan and stood on the stool, considering her actions, looking at him. '_What are you looking at, Incubus?'_ she demanded.  
>'<em>Me? I await the return of my dear Cambion child.'<em> he smirked, playing along. '_Believe me, he will.'_  
>Sarah shook her head. '<em>He will <em>_**never**__ be like you, Satan. __**Never.**_' The cabal beat her door down, brandishing torches. Sarah jumped.

'Come now, Sarah. If I recall, it was you who gave me the go-ahead. It was you who told me to continue.' Nyarlathotep demanded with another smirk as he strode towards her; stepping from floor to chair, to table, kicking aside candles and religious paraphenalia as he approached her. 'This form...' he stated, running a hand down his chest. 'Enjoyed the procreative acts- and, if I remember correctly...' he lowered his voice to a husky whisper. '_So did you...'_ With another dark chuckle he leapt back to the floor. 'How pitiful a species you are. I show you the truth in small chunks and you choke to death! I almost pity you. _Almost._'  
>'Leave her alone!' Lazarus growled rushing forwards with Andrea's baseball bat. Nyarlathotep knocked him flying with a single hand. He crashed to a stop amidst the benches.<br>'Lazarus, be quiet. The grown-ups are talking.'

'_I wanted what was best for my child. I wanted to keep him safe... From you.'_ Sarah replied sadly.

'But, it didn't go to plan, did it? By force of my will, he followed his dear friend into my domain.'  
>'<em>Tell me...' <em>Sarah looked up, weak, yet a small, beautifully radiant smile graced her features now. '_Is he a son to you, or just another gear in your demented plans? Can you even grasp the difference?' _her victory was short lived as a pained howl escaped her form, neck jerking backwards repeatedly as though reliving the sensation of being strangled by the rope. He was torturing her.

'Now, now, Sarah.' he tutted. 'There's no need to speak like that. Look at the gift I have given you; A being of blood and bone, mind and soul of mortal and God, a quintessence of flesh and soul. A wanderer without a home to call eternal. Were he completely human I would say that he is the next step for your pathetic race, but, because his body hosts some of my _vastly_ _superior_ genetics, he is better then that.'  
>Lazarus could do nothing but scoff at this statement, did his arrogance know no bounds?<br>'Now, Lazarus.' The Crawling Chaos turned his attention to the hybrid before him. 'It's time to leave this village. Leave these souls to dear old Dad. Come with me.' A hand outstretched towards his child. 


	6. Chapter 6

_**Chapter Zero: End of AppleTown. **_

_I tried... Believe me, how long I wished to save the souls of this town. But I had nothing left to go to, no-one left to turn to... The only living relaitive I had left was an absolute bastard of a God..._

_So, I took his hand, walked close to him, and punched him full in his smug face. He flinched, face turning to a scowl, eyes like hellfire! Then he knocked me down, bang, black eye. The moment he did that he began to howl loudly, cursing in tongues unbearable to human ears. It seems that my mother had reinforced the blood oath upon her death. She could not bear to watch me suffer at the hands of the man who raped her, now any suffering he inflicted upon me would be echoed back onto him a hundred fold._

_Immediatly he found a loophole to the oath; tore Andrea's spirit from her dead body and held her hostage. _

'Let go... Let go of her!' Lazarus begged.

_'L-Lazarus...? Where am I? It's dark... So dark...'_ Andrea pleaded looking around. '_Where are you...?'_  
>'I'll ask you again, Lazarus. Come with me, Ok?'<p>

'I... Have never met anyone so arrogant... _Never!_' Lazarus snarled. 'And I'll ask _you_ again. Let go of her.'  
>'If I don't? Will your mother stop me? Will the Blood Oath stop me? Will <em>you<em> stop me?' Nyarlathotep gave a spine chilling laugh. 'This is _MY_ reality. I could erase you with a thought, I could wipe this world out without lifiting a finger.'  
>'I want my friends and family back.' Lazarus growled, clenching his fists so tightly into his palms he drew blood.<br>It was Andrea's turn to laugh now. '_Ooo, you are in trouble. You haven't seen Laz when he's mad. I considerd it my job to keep him calm, keep him __**human**_. 'Cause when he goes into a rage...'  
>It was too much, Lazarus drew his hands to his head, doubling over before looking up and just <em>screaming.<em> All his anger and pent up emotions erupting in one burst. The benches were thrown from their placements, turning to ashes as a wave of energy swept down the room, scorching the floorboards and blowing out the windows. Lighting fixtures crashed down from the ceiling, glass shattering. Nyarlathotep watched this with interest before the energy hit him, for the first time in his life, someone was doing damage to him.

The Crawling Chaos was sent falling head over heels, Andrea's spirit untouched. With a snarl, Nyarlathotep leapt back to his feet, handsome face twisted and stretched into a demonic visage. '_That's my boy!'_ he roared. 'It's _my_ turn now...' The very ground began to tremble, Nyarlathotep simply stood there. Souless black eyes sparkling with swirling galaxies. A fierce wind swept through the woods, tearing ancient roots from the earth, the winds moved on through the village, ripping into the houses, pulling the entire village from it's placement and utterly destroying it. Lazarus ducked to avoid the flying debris as it hit the village hall.

When the winds finally died down, there was practically _nothing_ left of AppleTown for miles around. 'Ah, I needed to vent that.' Nyaralthotep sighed, features returning to their usual handsome form. 'AppleTown is now _officially_ off the map!'  
>'<em>Asshole. May you burn in hell forever.'<em> Sarah stated.  
>'Hmm?' Still holding Andrea's ghost by the throat, he turned to look at Sarah. 'Did I say something to offend you? You were the one who wished for me after all.'<br>'_Liar. You used me, you would use my son.'_  
>'<em>My<em> Son too. Remember that, Sarah.'  
>'<em>Why would you do such a thing to a village?'<em> Andrea asked.  
>'Hush, now... Your usefulness has come to an end. Your part in my plan is finished. Farewell, Andrea Harper.' Nyarlathotep stated. Lazarus could do nothing but watch as Andrea screamed, her spirit bursting into flames. Vanishing... <em>Gone.<em>

That was the last straw...

'You see now, Sarah? You've learnt a very valuable lesson today; this universe is governed by certain powers, and there is nothing you can do to challenge them!' The Crawling Chaos let out another chilling laugh. 'The look in your eyes when you realised a small inkling of what I was? It was _priceless!_'  
>'<em>Perhaps you should worry about our son?'<em> Sarah wondered. Nyarlathotep turned in time for Lazarus' fist to hit him once more, once he was on the floor, Lazarus turned from stoic to berserk, breaking bones and gouging out eyes. For sure, Nyarlathotep would be back. But not in once piece.

_Mother... You taught me that innocence is a contract. Once broken, it can never be mended. You sacrificed so much to try and protect the innocent, but to the guilty... You offered no mercy. I cared for father, some part of me did... But with what he did to you, me, Andrea, everyone in the village... He gave up his right to exist. That was __**my**__ wrath._

_You tried to define me, Father, you tried to twist me in your image, but the pieces did not fit. I am not you, your desires are not mine. I can be arrogant, sadistic, and quick to make people face my wrath. But I can also be kind and just as quick to forgive, that you must understand._

Lazarus breathed in deep heaving gulps as he looked down at what remained of Nyarlathotep's human form. A sadistic urge grabbed him and he suddenly began to lick the blood from his fingers. 'Mmm... _Sooo... Tasty..._ Do they all taste this good, I wonder?'

'_Lazarus.'_ His mother's scolding tone cut through him like a hot knife. The urge faded as quickly as it had come. He turned to face her, but she was no longer tied to the crucifix and instead stood before him, as she would've looked when she was alive. '_I love you, Lazarus...'_ she said, placing her cool hands on his face. '_My child...'_ The dawn light broke over the horizon, almost blinding Lazarus as his mother faded away. When he could see again, he looked around, spirits of the villagers were striding towards the sunlit woods. Lazarus recognised some of them; the _real_ withered man, his mother and his young sister. The journalist, still clutching her notebook. He listened carefully to her as she picked her way among the ruins.  
>'<em>This is it for me! I am on the FIRST fuckin' plane back to L.A. Uh-uh, ghosts, demon gods, fungi bat brain stealing creatures, I have had it! This was __**NOT**__ in the job description! __**I QUIT**__!'_

_For one sparse moment, I felt the terrible power of the Old Ones at my fingertips, it burned like the crimson flames of a phoenix, immolating and turning to ash before being born anew. It threatened to overwhelm me, but I forced it back, down into the depths of my soul and behind macabre doors, bound shut with chains of purest silver. What am I...?_

___**Chapter Zero-2:**__** Precious Time**_

_Take one minute to think..._

A cold wind blew through the area that had once been the lost village of Appletown. A single figure stood amongst the rubble and remains. Feeling the wind blow against their skin and clothes. They stared at the ground for seveal seconds, time echoing away in hollow ticks from his watch. His neutral features changed, lips curling into a smirk. The more time passed, the larger that smirk became. Shoulders began to slowly heave up and down, his entire body trembling slowly; it started with a small chuckle, developing into a quiet laugh. _A quiet laugh that was wracked with mental instability_. Several departing spirits stopped to look at the figure. Suddenly, Lazarus threw his head back, midnight locks falling back as his gleeful laughter echoed across the landscape, eyes illuminated with golden fire. The spirits ran, trying to get far, _far_ away from this laughing... _abomination _against the universe.

_He... He had accepted it...  
>He had accepted who  what he was...  
>He was a God with <em>_**delusions**__ of humanity!_

_The human race needed fixing... _

_He had the power and potential to fix them...  
>Weed out and slay the weak and corrupt. Leave only the strong...<br>The universe was broken...  
>It needed fixing...<em>

He stopped laughing. 'That's right...' he breathed. '...I'll fix everyone...'  
>This planet needed a God that <em>did<em> something towards the good of humanity...  
><em>It needs... <em>_**Me**__..._  
>He strode through the woods, seeking somewhere to begin... <p>

_**A/N: This author thinks Lazarus isn't well... Maybe the loss of Andrea finally did him in?**_

_**Then again, realising he's essentially (to the majority of the universe) a god-like entity... He's drunk on power.**_

_**Oh, Nyarly... What have you unleashed?**_

_***Sniffs air***_

_**You smell that? It smells like a sequel.**_


End file.
